


Kittens Are The Delight Of The Home

by james



Series: Cats and Witchers, Oh My [10]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, Cat!Shifter Jaskier, Humor, M/M, Non-Human Jaskier | Dandelion, secret surprise character you will never guess who, vague references to becoming an orphan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:41:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,404
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27619871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/james/pseuds/james
Summary: Geralt goes out to hunt for supper.  He comes back with something that is not supper. (He did also get rabbits.)
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Cats and Witchers, Oh My [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1771585
Comments: 42
Kudos: 392





	Kittens Are The Delight Of The Home

Geralt went back to their campsite, holding two rabbits by their hind legs, in one hand. He could hear the crackle of the fire Jaskier had lit – not because it was cold at all, but because Jaskier had spent half an hour waxing poetically about how the flickering of a fire was atmospheric for writing lyrics.

Geralt had listened silently, before finally telling him that he could build any sort of fire he liked, while he went hunting for supper. Then he had sat silently while Jaskier had pouted at him to _do the wiggly finger thing_ to ignite said fire.

He hadn't. Geralt had instead just sat, looking at him, and at one point he raised an eyebrow at him for emphasis. Jaskier had pouted more and said that Geralt was his husband now, he was supposed to do whatever Jaskier wanted.

Geralt had used all his self-control not to laugh in Jaskier's face, but he'd kept his face expressionless, hadn't moved – hadn't used Igni to light a fire – and then, when it looked like Jaskier was about to make his demand again, Geralt had pointed out that Jaskier was _his_ husband, too, which meant Jaskier had to do whatever Geralt wanted.

Jaskier had offered to build a fire while Geralt went hunting for supper.

Now he was back with supper and he supposed he was glad there was a fire. Both he and Jaskier had mostly gotten out of the habit of cooking their food when they were camping, away from human settlements. Sometimes Jaskier would shift forms so he could enjoy nibbling on the liver or brains of an animal with tastebuds that were better suited for it.

Now Geralt supposed they were going to have to start cooking again.

He walked into the campsite and Jaskier smiled in greeting even before he'd finished looking up from where he'd been scribbling in his journal. Then he froze. He stared, then after a moment his face did a _thing._

Geralt waited, standing in place, listening to the occasional drip of blood from one of the rabbits hitting the ground.

“Geralt.”

“Hmm?”

“Geralt, when you said you were hunting for supper--” Jaskier was still staring, looking gobsmacked.

“Mm?”

Jaskier pointed. “We're not eating that, are we? Only because it's a human baby?” 

Geralt held up the rabbits, not surprised Jaskier hadn't even noticed them. Jaskier sighed in relief, which fortunately for Jaskier, Geralt could tell was faked and not genuine. But Jaskier still didn't come over to help, either by taking the rabbits to get them ready for supper, or by taking the baby. Geralt waited. 

“Only, and I hesitate to ask this because it seems like exactly the sort of thing that would happen to you,” Jaskier said, which was only a little rude, because of the two of them, who got into trouble more often? Jaskier continued, ignoring Geralt's glare, “You seem to be holding an actual baby. Which is real, and not – oo! Is it even real? Is it a pretend magic baby that vanishes in the morning?”

Geralt growled, just a little, not wanting to alarm the baby. But seriously, what the fuck? Jaskier shook his head, then the baby made a soft noise and Jaskier immediately bounded over and plucked her from Geralt's hold. “Aren't you the cutest pretend fake baby ever,” Jaskier cooed at her.

Rolling his eyes, Geralt was relieved to know that Jaskier did have at least a minimum amount of parental instinct. Which made one of them. He went over a few feet away from the fire and knelt down to skin the rabbits.

He was good at skinning rabbits. Carrying a one year old infant on his hip for a mile had felt like nothing he had ever felt before – not terror, because Witchers didn't feel terror, but something that might have been terror if Witchers felt that sort of thing.

Which they didn't.

And certainly not because of one tiny, human baby.

He focused on his task while Jaskier settled himself and the baby near the fire, close to Geralt. “So, Geralt,” Jaskier said, then paused, as if his question should be obvious. He appeared to be playing some kind of game, holding the baby's hands and moving them in a rhythm. She was staring at Jaskier's face with a thoughtful expression.

Geralt hoped she was too young to understand his words, though surely she had lived through it. So far she hadn't really been upset, but he couldn't tell if she was in shock, or not really aware of what had happened. He kept his voice calm. “Found a merchant wagon. Bandits, probably. Everyone else was--” Was there a baby-friendly word for dead? Probably not.

But Jaskier was nodding. He knew what Geralt meant.

“Found her wrapped in blankets, under an over-turned chest.” He paused, then voiced what had seemed odd about the situation. “It looked like she'd been placed there on purpose. Hidden.”

“Huh.” Jaskier tilted his head. “Well, good, if the parents don't want their best treasure taken, but how would they know someone would come by in time?”

Geralt shrugged. “The wagon wasn't looted. Just-- uh, arrows. Everywhere.”

Jaskier's head snapped up. “So... not a robbery, but--” He glanced at the baby, still moving her hands up and down and in circles. “Assassination?”

Geralt held back a grin. Probably not a word babies knew. “Well, and there was this.” He held out the piece of paper he'd found tucked in the back of the baby's shirt. He gave it to Jaskier, who took it and read it.

“Her name is Cirilla Fiona, please keep her safe, away from Cintra and – there's the symbol for Nilfgaard. Huh.”

Geralt nodded. “Paper smells faintly of magic.” His medallion had stopped vibrating several minutes ago, but it had started the moment he'd stepped foot at the scene of the attack. The baby's heartbeat had alerted him initially, and finding her had been easy – for a Witcher. He wasn't sure a human would have found her, except for the spell which her mother had obviously cast. To keep her safe, to draw someone safe to find her, he supposed.

Geralt had the rabbits skinned, and set about to spitting them for roasting. Did babies eat meat? Fuck, he had no idea. “Does she have teeth? What-- do we have anything babies eat?”

Jaskier ducked his head down, poking at the baby's mouth. “Four front teeth, top and bottom, which means soft food, but no need to find a nanny goat. Although it wouldn't be a bad thing, next town up-- or, just how safe do you think she needs to be kept? Geralt, what the fuck are we going to do with this baby? Why does she need to be kept away from Cintra and Nilfgaard?”

Geralt hmmed. “The woman at the wagon was Pavetta.”

“Pavetta.” Jaskier was back to staring at him. Geralt supposed he deserved it.

“Hmm.”

“Pavetta, Princess of Cintra, daughter of Queen Calanthe, who was supposed to be married off and instead ran away with the man – excuse me, hedgehog – she loved, and they vanished never to be seen again?”

“Mm.”

“Geralt, my love?”

Geralt looked up, intrigued by the suddenly sweet tone of his husband's voice. “Hmm?”

“Your story-telling ability is astonishing, and you are hereby recruited to help me write all of my epic poems. Because your withholding of key information until the moment when it will have the most impact, is truly remarkable. Also, I'm going to stab you.”

Geralt didn't have to answer, as the baby – Cirilla Fiona, apparently – made another noise because Jaskier had stopped moving her hands. Jaskier's attention immediately went back to her and he began moving her hands and singing along this time.

It was a relief to be able to focus on cooking two rabbits, even if he still didn't know if babies could eat roasted meat.

~ ~ ~

It turned out if one of them pre-chewed the meat, she could manage just fine. Jaskier rustled up some tack bread and moistened it with water and a bit of rabbit fat. It kept her satisfied, at any rate, and they managed a fairly easy evening. Putting her down for bed proved tricky until Jaskier changed forms and curled up beside her to form a barrier, and Geralt knelt down to meditate on the other side. 

Cirilla just squealed happily when Jaskier-the-cat rubbed up against her, and she'd grabbed onto him and didn't let go. She slept more or less contentedly, waking up far too early in the morning for Jaskier's tastes, according to the way he grumbled and mewed and poked her with his nose, even began licking her face to convince her to _go back to sleep._ It only made her giggle more.

That night once they'd both fallen sound asleep, Geralt had gone scouting, once in a loping circle then back towards the wagon, making sure no one was nearby. As best he could tell, the attackers had long gone. Back at the site of the attack, he'd double-checked the bodies and found none of them resembled the stories describing the cursed man who had the face of a hedgehog. 

Earlier he hadn't had time to do anything for the two men who'd died, nor for Cirilla's mother; he'd felt pressed to get the baby back to the campsite as quickly as possible. Now, he left the two men as they were to help set the scene for whomever else came upon them, and carried Pavetta's body elsewhere. He searched her body for anything he could take for Cirilla – jewelry or small possessions and found only a ring. He took it, and wrapped Pavetta's body in a blanket, then set the whole thing on fire, using Igni to help it burn quickly and completely. 

Returning to the wagon he looted it carefully, taking a blanket and anything that looked like it belonged to a child or her mother. Then he'd snuck back to the campsite to find Cirilla and Jaskier curled around one another, still sleeping sounding.

The next day he showed Jaskier what he'd taken, and Jaskier nodded at him, approvingly.

It still didn't answer the question of what they were going to do with her, but at least where-ever she grew up, she would have a few things of her mother's. Jaskier identified the ring as Cintran, but not one that would identify the bearer as royalty, so they deemed it safe enough to keep.

Then they argued about destinations, and took turns carrying Cirilla because Jaskier insisted – and besides, she loved it when he turned into a cat, and Jaskier just looked as smug as a cat could, at him, when Geralt was forced to hold the baby and not feel that incredibly weird sensation that was not terror. Heightened awareness, perhaps, and his heart was certainly beating faster. He'd have to ask Vesemir about it.

Two days later, as they skirted away from the closest town just in case the bandits had gone or come from there, Geralt heard Jaskier talking to Cirilla. He heard the words “your Uncle Geralt and Uncle Jaskier” and he groaned.

Fuck.

If they had to keep this child safe – the granddaughter of Queen Calanthe, whose mother had apparently been assassinated – there was only one good answer.

Maybe two, if he thought Yennefer would agree to it.

Fuck.

Vesemir was going to _kill them._

~ ~ ~

Jaskier pointed out cheerfully that Vesemir couldn't kill them, because then _he_ would have to raise the baby. Instead he'd have to let them live and he could play grandpa.

~ ~ ~

Eskel walked into a wall. Then tripped over a rock. It took them three days of cajoling to get him to hold the baby, then they had a really hard time getting him to let go of her. Which made it so much easier for Jaskier and Geralt to sneak off for naps. 

Geralt thought they might have naked adult time, but instead they did both actually just fall asleep.

~ ~ ~

As soon as they arrived at Kaer Morhen, Lambert took the baby out of Jaskier's hands, and started yelling calmly at them both about have you never fucking heard of giving a baby a bath what is wrong with you fuckers she smells like horse, no offense Roach. 

They all watched as Lambert – _Lambert_ – gave Cirilla her first bath in a month. Jaskier tried to point out they'd cleaned her after she peed and pooped, and wiped her face and hands clean for meals, they never really bathed much on the road anyway, Lambert, why are you growling at us dirt never hurt anyone.

A couple days later, her second bath was conducted by Geralt and Jaskier, overseen by a scowling Lambert, who continued to refuse to explain how he knew how to bathe a baby. 

(When Ciri was twenty, she got the story from Uncle Lambert who confessed he'd had a dog, once, and washing a puppy wasn't much different from babies. And by not telling her dads the truth, he got to torture them for decades. She agreed to be sworn to secrecy.)

~ ~ ~

When Geralt called Yennefer on the xenovox, he hadn't had a chance to say anything before Jaskier leaned over and asked if she wanted to be Aunt Yen or Mom. They heard Yennefer say, “What.” Then there was a portal forming in their bedroom. (Which was also Cirilla's, now, until they could get a room fitted for her and she was old enough to be trusted not to wander around or climb out the window. Vesemir warned them that would be the age _never._ )

Jaskier just held Cirilla up at Yennefer as she appeared, and she stared at them all for a very long moment. Fortunately they had the “How the fuck did you two get a baby” speech memorised by now. But then Yennefer looked astonished and that was how they discovered Cirilla had inherited her mother's ability with chaos.

Two days after Yennefer moved into Kaer Morhen, Geralt was sharpening a hunting knife and explaining to Cirilla how to gut a rabbit, when she said “Da da,” and he discovered that, in fact, Witchers _could_ feel terror.

Luckily Jaskier swooped into the room, grinning delightedly, but then he picked her up and explained gently that he was dada and Geralt was papa, and strangely that did not help _at all._


End file.
